


using poetry in a street fight

by ihopeimbeingcrystalqueer



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Cigarettes, Drabble, F/F, Trigger: Mentions of Death, Vampires, year written: 2009
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 08:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6187795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihopeimbeingcrystalqueer/pseuds/ihopeimbeingcrystalqueer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>maybe anna should've been the bitten one. </p>
<p>[a snapshot in the life of a vampire and a human. written in 2009.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	using poetry in a street fight

they meet in the junkyard, just like they planned to do. just like they always have. just like they did when they were young and in middle school, giggling schoolgirls who liked to pretend they were beautiful. of those early days anna mostly remembers half-moments. stealing cookie-jar glances at rose's mouth and blushing. remembers laughing wild at the jokes that rose would make. 

now, of course, anna still stares at rose's mouth, but rose doesn't eat oranges anymore. 

rose gets there first, as rose always does these days. it's one of the privileges of being a vampire, she claims, grinning. if it is (and anna doubts it), she abuses it to no end. 

today is no exception. by the time anna arrives, rose is already seated atop the stone wall, swinging her legs back and forth. 

"fancy seeing you here," she calls, grinning down at her from atop the wall. "all dolled up and everything!"

"compared to you, maybe i am," anna calls back, but her heart isn't in it. she doesn't have the energy to banter with her, not today. 

not after what happened last night. 

subtlety has never been one of anna's strong suits, and rose's brow creases in concern. "you doing okay, angel?"

she rolls her eyes and hops up on the wall to take a seat next to rose. "yeah, sure I am, rose. after what happened last night? yeah, i'm fine." 

rose is silent. anna can see her resigning herself to the conversation that is about to come for a moment. then rose leans back, kicking her legs up, and fumbles in her bag. she comes up a few seconds later with a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. the latter she flicks until a flame catches. anna watches the spark become a blue oval blooming at the tip, watches rose touch it to the end of a cigarette. 

rose breathes, quiet, letting smoke drift out in circles. she's shaking. her shoulders have goosebumps. hurt gathers in her shoulders, building up until it becomes a wall between them. 

"what do you want me to say?" rose asks at last, smoke slipping through her round red lips. her fingers tremble as they lift her cigarette from her lips- there's a red lipstick stain on the end, faint but definite. some part of anna is wondering absently if rose would leave lipstick stains on her neck. some part of anna wants to ask rose to leave lipstick stains on her neck, wants to leave all this behind where neither of them is carrying an open, aching wound that rips up everything good between them. 

but the other part of anna says, "i want you to say that you killed a boy last night." the other part of anna threads anger through the words. the other part of anna is clenching her fists. "i want you to admit that you slaughtered him and that you drank from him. you killed him, rosie, you fucking killed him-"

"yeah, and you think i fucking liked it?" rose snaps, her cigarette now forgotten. "that's your problem, isn't it. you think i'm a monster, cause i ate for the first time in a year. guess what, anna, a girl's got to eat, and i've starved myself through. i've got to eat. it's the way this works. do you think that i like it?" 

rose spits the words out and cigarette smoke follows. as if her mouth were on fire. as if she's swallowed embers. anna wonders if maybe she has.

she shakes her head. "you didn't have to kill him."

rose lifts the cigarette back up. drags the tar in and out. breathes out again, long and rattling. 

"but i did, didn't i?"

the silence that sits between them is smoky and angry and anna wants to break it all to pieces. she wants to slip her hands around rose's neck and choke till she leaves bruises. she wants to scream sobs into the sky. she wants to push and pull and rip the world apart till there's nothing left except for the bruises and the blood. 

there are a lot of things she wants. anna is a child by nature, selfish and wanting and a little bit torn at the edges. she's ruthless and heartless and aching and she wants- she wants the world. 

but the worst thing. the thing she wants the most: to cup her hand round the back of rose's neck and pull her closer. to pull the smoke from her mouth and see how it tastes, compare it to that sticky red lipstick. to straddle her lap and touch rose as if she's made of glass. to call her rosie with all the affection of a lover. 

to look at the light that rises in rose's eyes when she calls anna angel. 

anna sits on the ledge. swings her feet. says, "i'm sorry." and means it with every bit of her battered heart.


End file.
